It’s been a fairly busy week for me at Al Asad. With the rain comes newfound vigor both in myself and in the environment around me. Of course it also draws out a much larger insect community than I expected, but a few mosquitoes never hurt anyone… wait a second…
The palms seem to be greener and the reeds above the underground waterways have sprouted here in the oasis. It really makes you appreciate how absolutely desolate it is just over the mesa. And even better, we have dipped into the double-digit temperatures. WOO HOO for the 90’s.
Anyway, I have a new job with a Task Force whose purpose is to bring together Iraq’s versions of the CIA, FBI, judicial system, police forces, and the US Forces. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m suddenly out there kicking down doors and wrestling Al Quida members to the ground, mostly I’m sitting around a large table with my radar on for anything that could either be potentially illegal or finding ways to improve communication. It’s a lot better than it used to be, but they still bicker about how “bad guys” are getting set free because of either judicial corruption of because the police are corrupt, you get the idea, but they used to not talk at all. Like I said, we have come a LONG way for the better.
I’ve been skipping around here all week because this weekend I’m flying to Baghdad to spend some time with Cindy. Saturday is our 6th wedding anniversary, traditionally known as the “Iron Anniversary” which is appropriate because the unit we are with is nicknamed “Old Ironsides” and we are known as “Iron Soldiers.” We are having a US flag flown over the headquarters building and a certificate will be signed commemorating our “Iron Anniversary” as signed by the commanding general and command sergeant major. Very cool. We plan on watching some movies, eating calzones, playing board games, and just snuggling. I’d let you know what I got Cindy, but she reads this blog.
I’ve decided to change schools for the sake of a more specified degree gearing towards the profession I want so desperately to be part of. Cindy found a school in New Hampshire that offers a BA in Creative Writing and, after a little reading up on it, called admissions and should be starting classes on 1 November. I love it.
Our son (my biological and Cindy’s stepson) is doing well back in the States, but his dedication to schoolwork is concerning me, especially when reading about the struggles other families are going through just trying to get an education for their kids, period. I know at age 11 (about to be 12) there were a million things out there more interesting than school, and I know I had a problem with turning in homework, however, I wonder if his mother even knows the teacher’s name. I’ve talked to him about it over the phone, but it’s not the same. It does bother me that I’m missing out on his formative years, and I really do hope that someday Cindy and I get custodial custody of him because I know that we can offer him a better life than what small town Oregon could ever give him. But, I digress… prepare for that day and digress. I also owe his class something special since I’ve been adopted by them, and I haven’t responded to their letters yet. As Cindy has said, I suck more than a little.
The writing is coming along. For the first time, I am over 75,000 (about 285) words on Immolate without adding fluff. The only problem is that what I have added may be creating more questions than solutions, which will inevitably lead to my compulsion to answer those questions and, as Cindy alluded, might be making the book too complex. Yes, I have been banging my head on the wall a little since I have a tendency to get so wrapped up in this little vampiric world of nightmares and madness I created that I can’t sleep. I could eat, breathe, and crap the world of Immolate if given a chance, but apparently there is a war going on outside or something. Just as soon as I smooth out the rough edges, I’ll send a run down to Pat (my kick ass editor) to get his opinion, because if I call him now and try to explain it all he’ll recommend I start taking medication.
As you can see from the pics, my work station is loaded with things to help me focus. At the focal point (just above my monitor) I have a printed pic of the Bram Stoker Award for literary horror excellence. Who could ask for more motivation than that?
Aside from that, we’re trying to pry ideas from my family on what to get them all for Christmas. At this point I am not above water boarding a couple of them until that talk. I threatened my sister with just getting her Iraqi dirt, but she thought would be a cool idea. This is what I’m dealing with.